


It's All Fun And Games (Behind The Screen Names)

by thetamehistorian



Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Boba Fett Runs A Holoshow Chat Server, Crack, Din Djarin Needs a Hug, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Language, Gen, Getting Together, Good Parent Din Djarin, Group chat, M/M, Mutual Pining, No One Knows Who Anyone Else Is, Series 2 spoilers, Suggestive Themes, crack treated seriously?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:00:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28340550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thetamehistorian/pseuds/thetamehistorian
Summary: Din had never intended to become obsessed with a trashy holoseries. Really, he hadn’t. But, in his defence, he'd had a really long, really bad day.In which Din Djarin joins a chat group, unexpectedly makes some friends, talks about his son, and has feelings about a holoshow.
Relationships: Din Djarin/Paz Vizsla
Comments: 150
Kudos: 356





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> This is... utter nonsense. I wrote it because we ended up talking about the idea of Boba Fett just chatting to people on a chat group under that helmet on a Discord server and I just kinda of ran with it and sort of wrote comedy? If nothing else, I hope it raises a smile or two.  
> No idea how quickly its going to update.  
> And yes, Boba Fett is drinking bubble tea.
> 
> I post occassionally on [Tumblr](https://thetamehistorian.tumblr.com/)  
> 

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is set immediately post Chapter 14: The Tragedy.

Din had never intended to become obsessed with a trashy holoseries. Really, he hadn’t. He’d had a really long, really bad day, and apparently his continuous pacing was getting on Fennec’s nerves enough that he was eventually banished to the cockpit.

“Let Fett babysit you for a bit.”

He wanted to bristle but, to reiterate, _really bad day_ , and frankly he was probably about ten minutes from passing out, so he decided that rather than getting into a fight which he would probably lose, he’d just pace around up there instead.

When he reached the top of the ladder he found the not-Mandalorian, Boba Fett, lounging in the pilots seat. Fett had somehow managed to get his helmet hooked up to the viewscreen and was occupied with watching a holoshow on it. He caught the title screen as it popped up, _‘Star-Crossed Lovers_ ’ and promptly wanted nothing to do with it because, seriously?

“You alright, kid?” Fett asked around a sip of his drink. 

It looked vaguely like the eggs that he had spent several days trying to keep in the frog lady’s container and out of the kid - _don’t think about that_ \- which didn’t help it appear at all appetising.

“What are you doing?” he asked instead, carefully easing into the co-pilot chair and trying to find a comfortable position, feeling like one giant bruise.

Actually, that might be a fairly accurate description. He hadn’t checked. He wasn’t sure he wanted to.

“Catching up on the holos,” Fett replied, gesturing at the screen with his cup. “Not really good reception on Tatooine.”

Which, ok, fair enough. Still, it seemed only right to ask before interrupting Fett’s leisure time. “You mind if I stay up here for a bit?”

“Getting on Fennec’s nerves?” Fett said knowingly. Then, “Sure, I don’t mind.”

So Din sat, tried to sleep, and when that failed, let his mind wander. When _that_ only led to thinking about all he had just lost, again, he found himself observing Fett out of the corner of his eye, trying to puzzle the other man out and before he knew what was happening, his eyes had drifted over to the screen.

The episodes had to be short, barely half an hour long judging by the fact that the episode number in the corner had already changed and he was pretty sure he couldn’t have lost that much time in his musings. 

Fett, on the other hand, seemed perfectly happy just to sit there and watch them, one after another.

It wasn’t until, hours later, when June was saying a stilted goodbye to Isla and he found his eyes burning and small noises of distress were trapped in his throat that he realised how invested he’d become in the blasted thing. Part of him rebelled at the idea that he was still expending energy watching the show. It had, after all, been a _really, really bad day_ , so this wasn’t normal for him, he wouldn’t usually enjoy such terrible entertainment. He had _standards_.

Then he watched as June walked away and Isla turned and they just missed seeing each other looking back and he couldn’t stop a small sniff escaping. _Manda_ , was he crying over this?

At the sound Fett’s head snapped around to stare at him.

“Kid? You ok under there?”

He nodded, wishing desperately for Fett to vanish so he could be alone to wipe away the evidence of his weakness, or at least for the Mandalorian gods to grant him the power to melt into the seat and disappear.

“It’s just,” he flailed an arm in the rough direction of the screen, “it’s really sad, y’know. They promised.”

Fett’s frown gradually softened into a knowing smile.

“Here,” he said after a second or two, reaching down and picking up another cup of the strange egg drink from somewhere, “have some of this.”

Ashamed of his reaction, Din accepted the cup and lifted his helmet just enough to catch the straw between his teeth before he let the beskar drop back down and fully hide his expression once again. He sipped cautiously and was pleasantly surprised to find that the drink was sweet and milky and actually quite nice.

They sat in companionable silence as the episode ended and the credits rolled.

“Well,” Fett said. “That’s the last one of the series for now.”

“That’s it?” Din hated how petulant and hurt he sounded. “They left it _there_?”

Fett hummed, tapping something on his vambrace, and the projection onto the screen split as what looked like a chat group popped up alongside the credits.

“I run a chat server for the show,” Fett offered after a moment. “Got a couple of friends and strangers on there who like to talk about it, and life in general sometimes. Helps us all deal with the tough scenes. You want to join?”

And it must have been a _really really really bad day_ , because Din said yes.

> **just a simple man** has invited you to join the server

“Just a simple man?” he asked, confused.

It had taken him a few minutes to work out how to pull up and work the chat function built into his HUD, but with a little guidance from Fett, he had soon worked it out.

“Screen name,” Fett explained. “You should probably choose one too. Sometimes it’s best not to give our names out with abandon on the net.”

Din nodded. He could understand the need for anonymity, and he imagined Fett chose to hide his identity for similar reasons. Bounty hunters tended to end up with a list of people who would be quite happy to see them dead. It was a hazard of the job.

He filled in the short form, which confirmed that he was above the age of majority for his species (with a disclaimer that lying about this was not the responsibility of the server owner and not advised), asked him to clarify his pronouns, and finally, required him to type in a screen name.

He thought for a minute before he reached for the buttons on his wrist.

> **lone gunslinger** has joined the server! Welcome!

“Nice,” Fett murmured.

Din was immediately overwhelmed by a mix of welcome messages from various people, which was a pleasant surprise, and what seemed to be three different ongoing conversations about the episode they had just watched in a sub-group simply entitled ‘the show [spoilers]’.

> **star-crossed banter  
**don’t mind me just sat here crying all over my loth cat

> **snips  
**I can’t _believe_ June left! If I had a woman with those thighs, I’d never leave.  
* _dreamy sigh*_

> **bigblue  
@theforge **was that an Amban rifle in the background?

> **snips** changed her name to **hit me baby with those thighs**

> **theforge  
@bigblue **I’m not convinced mate, looked more like a repeater rifle to me, the silhouette was wrong

> **june’s wife  
@star-crossed banter **ooh kitty! Pics please?  
(also I know what you mean, I’m still crying too)

> **bigblue  
**shame.

> **hit me baby with those thighs  
**man, if Isla tried to strangle me with those thighs I’d let her. [edited]

> **cyberqueen** **  
** eatingpopcorn.gif

Din read through the messages as they appeared in quick succession and slowly turned his head to look at Fett, the notifications on his HUD still pinging in the corner of his eye, wondering what on Mandalore he’d got himself into.

“Welcome to the madness, kid,” Fett said and sipped his drink.


	2. Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set During and Post Chapter 15: The Believer and Chapter 16: The Rescue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have been hit by the *inspiration* apparently.  
> Also this fic seems to be growing both feels and plot.  
> Whoops.

For some reason, over the rest of their trip, Din found himself checking on the chat server with an almost alarming frequency.

There were more people on it than he really expected, although maybe only a dozen or so were regularly active. He didn’t have much else to do so he quickly became one of them. Besides, the journey to Nevarro was going to take another day or thereabouts, so Din had a lot of time to spare, and a lot of nervous energy, and he suspected that Fett would rather he expend it on the chat server than on the other man’s ship.

Which was probably also why Fett ended up sending him a link to a download for the holoseries. Din took the hint and found a quiet corner where he sat down and watched the series from the beginning – properly this time, with all of his attention on the screen rather than on the events of the day or on half-observing his travel companions.

Unfortunately, he still enjoyed it on second viewing, but it looked like his really bad day was going to stretch out into three or four, maybe even a week, so he could justify it to himself for now.

He even found himself taking notes of things he wanted to talk about or share with the others, or ask for their insight on as more long-term viewers.

He’d worked his way all the way through to the penultimate episode, with chat breaks between each one to update the server on his progress, much to his bemusement and their delight, and he was in the middle of a conversation with ‘bigblue’ and ‘snips’ (thankfully her name change had only been temporary) when Fett popped his head down into the main hold and announced that they were an hour out from leaving hyperspace, and reality crashed back in with the force of a brick falling into the bottom of his stomach.

Swallowing hard, he paused mid-message, suddenly no longer really feeling like talking. He reached for the keypad on his vambrace and quickly back-tracked and typed out a new message.

> **lone gunslinger  
**sorry I have to go  
might be gone a while

> **snips**  
I get what you mean gunslinger, it reminds me of this ~~devastating~~ awesome book I read once, lemme see if I can find the title  
oh, no problem  
something come up?

> **bigblue  
**reality hit huh?

> **lone gunslinger  
**yeah

> **snips  
**that’s ok, talk later?

> **lone gunslinger  
**not sure when I’ll be back

> **bigblue  
**well we’ll be here whenever

With that, Din logged off and shut the chat application down, doing his best to ignore the roiling feeling of guilt in his gut that he had so easily put Grogu out of his mind.

Over the next few days things, impossibly, went from bad to worse and Din made sacrifice after sacrifice until he had what he needed and if it cost him everything? Well, the kid’s safety was worth it.

Still, he felt like he was crawling out of his own skin as they travelled towards the shuttle containing one Dr Pershing and, hopefully, their way in and when he turned for yet another lap of the hold Fennec gave him a _look_ that had him heading for the ladder to the cockpit instead. Fett said nothing as he once again took up the co-pilots seat and, in the privacy of his own helmet – _don’t think about it_ – he pulled up the link and scrolled through to one of his favourite episodes.

He wasn’t sure he was watching it exactly, not really, but it was oddly comforting nevertheless. As was the way Fett pulled out yet another of those drinks and wordlessly handed it over.

By the time they reached the shuttle, he was seven episodes in and feeling considerably more grounded to the extent that when Cara asked if he was alright, he could honestly say, “So long as we get the kid back unharmed, I will be.”

Mere hours later, everything seemed to be going right for once. He had Grogu back, sleepy but in one piece, Cara was happy, Gideon was captured, and somehow, by dint of a weird laser sword, he seemed to have accidentally become the heir of Mandalore. But he was sure he could get rid of that mantle quickly enough.

Then everything went wrong. Bo-Katan couldn’t put away her pride. The dark troopers came back. A _kriffing_ Jedi turned up and his son, with whom he had been blissfully reunited with only minutes before, was asking for his permission to go.

And who was he to say no?

This had been his mission after all, to return the kid to his people, to the people who could teach him that which Din could not. To help him control his special powers.

So he let him go, even though it was the hardest thing he’d ever done. Harder than taking off the helmet by far.

The journey back away from the cruiser passed numbly. The darksaber hung from his belt as a weighty reminder of the day’s events, and it wasn’t until Fett was dropping him and Cara off on Nervarro that he really began to take things in again.

He suspected that, this time, not even his favourite episode would help.

As Cara went to deposit the carbon frozen Gideon in storage and alert the authorities to come and pick him up, Fett said goodbye with a nod and a gentle tap to his helmet.

“You know where to find me if you need.”

And then he was alone again.

He stood there by the landing pad for a few minutes trying to work out how to orientate himself when the ground had been ripped from beneath his feet and everything which had been certain in his life mere days ago was gone when a notification popped up in the corner of his HUD.

For a moment he hoped, rather selfishly, that it was Fett, messaging him to let him know he had changed his mind and that he was coming back to pick him up and take him with him whether he liked it or not.

He opened it.

It was a direct message not from Fett but from ‘bigblue’.

>> **bigblue  
**hey, just checking in, you’ve been away for a while and we’re getting worried  
let us know you’re ok when you have a moment?

Din stared at the message for a while, stunned.

He hadn’t realised that he had become so thoroughly integrated with the little community of random people on the net in so short a time that they _would_ miss him and yet, clearly, he had. At least, the sentiment read true enough, though it was hard to tell sometimes without the visual and verbal clues of a real person in front of him.

Impulsively, he began to write out a quick ‘I’m fine’ but before he could hit send something stopped him and he found himself staring at the two little words through slowly blurring vision.

He could, he realised, be himself here. Be Din.

This stranger on the net had never met him, likely never would. There was no expectation, no watching out of the corner of their eyes in anticipation of explosion or collapse, just genuine concern. They couldn’t trace this back to him unless he gave them the information. They didn’t even know he was a Mandalorian.

To them, he was just the ‘lone gunslinger’ and, apparently, a friend.

Slowly, he deleted the ‘I’m fine’ he had typed and tried again.

>> **lone gunslinger  
**I’m alive.  
Not sure about the ok bit.  
I lost someone today.

It wasn’t until ‘bigblue is typing’ popped up that he realised exactly how that last sentence sounded and panicked a little because he wasn’t sure how to say ‘I gave my fifty-year-old alien foundling with magic powers to a Jedi so he could be trained and I completely forgot to ask where they were going and now I don’t know if I’m ever going to see him again and also I sort of broke my religious code to say goodbye so I might be having a bit of an identity crisis and let’s not even get started on the whole heir of Mandalore thing’ without sounding like a total madman.

>> **lone gunslinger  
**not like that!  
sorry, just realised what that sounded like  
it’s my kid  
he’s gone away to school – boarding school - and I’m - not used to life without him around  
I miss him  
and I don’t know when I’m going to see him again

Pouring his heart out to a total stranger was oddly cathartic and, although he did feel a little bad for dumping this on the person on the other side of the screen, it was – nice – to even be able to. He watched as the ‘bigblue is typing’ message disappeared as ‘bigblue’ read through the updated chat and then, a moment later, it popped up again, to his relief.

>> **bigblue  
**still, sorry to hear that man  
can’t have been easy

>> **lone gunslinger  
**yeah

>> **bigblue  
**good to know you’re still alive  
don’t worry about talking here if you don’t want to but the offer’s there if you want it  
take all the time you need

>> **lone gunslinger  
**yeah  
thanks for checking in  
means a lot

And it did, he realised. It really did.

>> **bigblue  
**no problem

“Din?”

Startled, he looked up and found Cara watching him, concerned. He had completely zoned out, sat on a crate by the landing pad.

“Yeah?”

“The New Republic are coming to pick Gideon up,” she explained. “You need anything?”

He thought about it for a moment.

“How about a drink?”

>> **lone gunslinger  
**talk again tomorrow?

>> **bigblue  
**looking forward to it.


	3. Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set post Series 2.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Din learns how to live in the aftermath, with the help of his friends, both old and new.

For Din, his life was now defined by who he was before Grogu and who he was after. He had been changed irrevocably by the small magical alien that he had, in the privacy of his own head, called his son.

Going back to bounty hunting was – difficult.

He found it all the harder to ignore the moral implications of some of the jobs he was offered, the fear on the faces of those he found. Over the months, he became more and more selective with his jobs, deliberately seeking out those that dealt with known criminals and miscreants. It wasn’t good for his income, but it was for his conscience.

When Cara dropped him a message to let him know that Greef had a job for him that fit his new requirements, he changed course for Nevarro without delay.

Most of his downtime, when he was transporting bounties already in carbonite or during long hyperspace trips to a last known location of a target, was spent on Boba Fett’s server. He had, and it still caught him off guard, made friends there.

He knew nothing about the people who sent him messages, not really. Not their names, their ages, their species. They were united solely by their love of a mediocre holoshow with an oddly dedicated following. And yet, he knew that ‘snips’ preferred women, that ‘star-crossed banter’ had three loth cats, and he didn’t need to have spent time with Boba Fett in person to know that the man was partial to that strange egg drink, which was apparently called bubble tea, because ‘just a simple man’ often expressed his love for it in conversation.

Admittedly, he got on with some of them better than others. The one who called themselves ‘bigblue’ was probably his closest net friend and he’d learned a surprising amount about them.

‘bigblue’ liked their caff black with two sugars, had an interest in weaponry over which they had quickly bonded, braided their hair, spoke at least three languages, and had a dry but immensely witty sense of humour. They were also kind, thoughtful, stubborn, loyal, longed to have a family, struggled with their temper, and hated swimming.

Din liked them. A lot.

He wondered what they had picked up about him. Some things he had let slip over time. The knowledge that he had a son that he didn’t get to see much, that he had a moustache, that his favourite colour had once been blue but now it was green. He wondered what their list about him would look like. He wondered if they liked him too.

Greef was a verbose as usual and Din could tell this meeting was going to drag on a bit so he took the opportunity to check in on the general chat, keeping one ear on Karga and one eye on his HUD.

He was getting away with it just fine, or at least so he thought, when it happened.

> **bigblue** changed their name to **i’mblue**

> **theforge  
**shavit bigblue whyyyyyy

> **star-crossed banter  
**oh not this again

> **lone gunslinger  
**?

> **snips  
**vid.net//blue(dabodeedaboda)

Din, very hesitantly, clicked on the link. He wasn’t sure he trusted 'snips' not to try and prank them all.

She hadn’t, but part of him wished she had as he was subjected to what had to be the strangest song, and accompanying video, that he had ever seen in his life. Even the hallucinations he had experienced that one time he’d broken up a ‘recreational substance’ ring in order to catch a bail jumper and his helmet seal had malfunctioned at just the wrong moment so that he’d accidentally inhaled some of the product, were nothing compared to this.

The video ended and he blinked, feeling strangely like it had imprinted itself onto his brain, like he would see it in his dreams.

Greef’s voice broke through and he did his best to return his attention to him, enough to pick up that he hadn’t missed anything important at any rate, then, still reeling, he returned to the chat group to express exactly what he felt about whatever it was he had just witnessed.

And possibly to give 'bigblue' a piece of his mind in private.

> **just a simple man  
@i’mblue **this is your third and FINAL warning  
I swear if you get this song in my head one more time I’m kicking you from the server

> **i’mblue  
**{sad face} even if it’s in a really good fanvid?

> **just a simple man  
**… that might _just_ be acceptable  
if you could even manage that  
but you’re on thin kriffing ice

> **i’mblue  
**that’s fair.

> **i’mblue** changed their name to **bigblue**

> **lone gunslinger  
**I regret everything

> **just a simple man  
**you clicked on the link didn’t you?

> **lone gunslinger  
**yes.  
it was an…  
experience

> **theforge  
**RIP you.

“Mando?”

“Hmm?” he jerked his eyes from the screen and found Greef looking at him expectantly.

Kark.

“I can make it three thousand credits for the job at a push, but that’s my final offer.”

Thank goodness. He could at least make a guess from that. “Tell you what,” he said, choosing his words with care, the threat of being caught zoning out hanging over his head, “don’t bother with the extra credits. If you fuel up my ship and I’ll take the lower commission. Just this once mind.”

Karga relaxed back into his seat and smiled, apparently not noticing that anything was amiss. “I knew I could count on you, Mando.”

The puck was slid over the table and so began his next job.

It wasn’t like he meant to get distracted by the chat group in the middle of important conversations. It just happened. The chat was open on the side of his HUD most of the time, running quietly in the background in case anything important or interesting came up like the airing dates for the next series.

And 'bigblue' was nearly always responsible for his slips.

They just had an incredible ability to find and share the most ridiculous things.

Which was exactly what they did when he was in a meeting with Cara and Greef upon his return from his latest job for them. Cara was working her way through a glass of spotchka so it was more a relaxed catch up than a business discussion when he got a notification that he’d been tagged in something on the chat group.

Cara and Greef were in the middle of a debate on something so he figured he had time to check it out.

> **bigblue  
@lone gunslinger @theforge  
**opinions on this?  
knifewieldingtentacle.gif

> **theforge  
**…  
I am not sure whether to be impressed or horrified  
please tell me you didn’t make that

Din clicked on the gif and, despite his best effort, couldn’t quite hold back the snort of laughter that tried to escape as it played.

His vocoder, unfortunately, picked it up. Even more unfortunately, it turned the stifled laugh into a weird choked noise that didn’t sound like anything healthy. Even _more_ unfortunately, both Cara and Greef heard it and turned back to him, concern on their faces and he was forced to hide his reaction, not wanting to admit that he had been ignoring them to talk to some strangers online.

“You ok?” Cara asked, frowning.

“I’m fine,” he managed to choke out between repressed chuckles, fingers digging into his thigh in an attempt to distract himself.

Greef leaned forward a little. “You don’t sound fine. Are you coming down with something? Need to see a medic?”

He managed to get himself under control for long enough to respond before they could get ideas. They’d both been a little careful since that day on the cruiser. Treading softly around him, hovering even. “I’m _fine_ , I swear. Just been a long day.”

Cara didn’t look all that convinced, but she backed down and cautiously returned to the subject of their previous conversation.

“If you say so.”

Taking in a few steadying breaths he typed out a quick message and read through the responses before shutting down the app and turning back to the conversation proper in the hopes of persuading Cara and Greef that he really was fine. Better than fine, even.

> **lone gunslinger  
@bigblue  
**what the ever-loving fuck was that?

> **bigblue  
**{laughing face} I KNEW you’d like it

> **snips  
@lone gunslinger  
**LANGUAGE {winky face}

> **cyberqueen  
**I hate you all.

And just when Din thought he’d got his life worked out again. The next morning a message arrived that turned it all upside down.

Once he’d worked his way through the implications of the three short sentences and set of co-ordinates, he found himself opening the chat group without really thinking, even as he speed-walked to his ship, a warm feeling blossoming in his chest and a smile growing on his face.

He just had to share the news with someone.

> **lone gunslinger** changed his name to **clan of two**


	4. Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is been especially poignant for me today - with gratitude to those on the server (you know who you are).  
> Anyway - chapter four - in which there is a revelation.

> **lone gunslinger** changed his name to **clan of two**

> **snips  
**{eyes}

> **star-crossed banter  
**you can’t just do that and not explain **@clan of two  
**spill the beans

> **frequentlyfrustrated  
**^^^

> **star-crossed banter  
**if you’re comfortable sharing, that is

> **frequentlyfrustrated  
**that too

> **clan of two  
**I’m visiting my kid at his school today

> **snips  
**{eyes}{eyes}{eyes}

> **bigblue  
**{party} YES. So happy for you!

> **frequentlyfrustrated  
**how old is your kid?  
if you don’t mind me asking

Din paused at that last message, trying to decide what to say. It wasn’t like he could give Grogu’s real age without it sounding really, really odd, though part of him was tempted just to drop a ‘oh by the way, my child is older than I am, wild right?’ just to see how they’d react.

> **clan of two  
**he’s a toddler  
just starting to talk, I think

> **star-crossed banter  
**awwwwww

> **theforge  
**ahh the cute age

> **clan of two  
**not sure about that, he can be a menace when he wants

> **snips  
***gasp* baby’s first prank!

There were days when Din was extremely grateful for the people on the chat group and this was one of them. With their gentle coaxing, he found himself telling them more and more about Grogu’s exploits – with some careful editing to avoid mentioning his powers, or the bounty on him, or exactly how he became a father.

But still, by the time his ship dropped out of hyperspace and he was staring at the planet where his son was currently training, his nerves were, not gone precisely, but at the very least he wasn’t actively fidgeting anymore.

And the tremble in his fingers wasn’t too noticeable as he took hold of the controls to pilot the ship to the exact co-ordinates the Jedi had sent.

According to his scans, the planet was scarcely populated and the Jedi seemed to have taken up residence in one of the more isolated villages. He sent the ship down far enough away to give them warning of his arrival. He had no desire to get sliced in half with one of those laser swords because he caught them by surprise.

If you _could_ catch a Jedi by surprise.

He had barely taken a few steps into the village with one hand near his blaster just in case, he wasn’t stupid enough to let his guard down even here, when a painfully familiar high-pitched shriek broke the silence. He whirled around and found the Jedi stood just outside one of the huts, a smile on his face and Grogu in his arms. Without any words, the Jedi set Grogu down and a little blur of green came running towards him, arms aloft and babbling excitedly.

Din dropped to his knees and caught his son, wrapping him tightly in his arms, burying his little head into the gap between his pauldron and his helmet and just like that, everything was ok again.

And then the Jedi started to talk and it only got better.

“He needs more training, but he’s advancing much quicker than I expected.”

“You can come and visit him whenever you’d like, I didn’t intend to separate you, so long as you give me _some_ notice.”

“He misses you.”

 _That_ caught his attention.

“He does?”

“Of course,” Luke Skywalker said, as though it was nothing. “His memories of you are – bright. The brightest he has.”

Din had no response to that but to hold Grogu just a little tighter.

When he finally left, a few days later, it was with a fresh spring in his step, a promise to visit as often as he can – and he just _knows_ he’s going to be spoiling the kid rotten but he can’t bring himself to care – and a pledge in kind from Grogu, to keep studying well and make him proud.

Sat in the pilot’s seat, he opens the group chat for the first time since he landed to find he’s been tagged in about ten different conversations and that ‘bigblue’ had sent him a number of private messages over the last few days.

Skipping over the tagged messages – nothing he can’t return to later – he opens up the messages from ‘bigblue’.

>> **bigblue  
**hey, so  
this might sound like a weird question but  
are you Mandalorian?

>> **bigblue  
**I only ask because I am as well  
and there’s so few of us around these days  
it’s always nice to hear from others of our kind

>> **bigblue  
**if you’re not that’s fine as well  
you’re a nice guy  
it was just that you used the word ‘clan’  
I know other cultures do as well  
it just sounded very Mandalorian

Din stared at the messages for a couple of minutes, not quite believing his eyes. Surely it had to be a trick? But then, ‘bigblue’ was right, the terminology he had used _was_ very Mandalorian. And it wasn’t exactly well known outside of their culture. It could be an educated guess, but something in the back of his mind was telling him that ‘bigblue’ wasn’t lying.

It just seemed too good to be true, for him to have spent months searching for other Mandalorians only to find out that he’d been talking with one all along.

One who he liked. Really liked. Someone who he might even, if he thought about it, like in an ‘I would like to spend my life with you’ kind of a way. Not that he’d told them that. They were a not-quite-stranger on the net and frankly, he suspected expressing that kind of intention might freak them out, regardless of how close they’d become.

>> **clan of two  
**I am.  
Mandalorian, that is.

The ‘bigblue is typing’ message popped up extremely quickly and when the sentence appeared, Din knew without a doubt that ‘bigblue’ had been telling the truth because it was written in Mando’a.

>> **bigblue  
**_well fuck me  
what are the odds?  
it’s good to meet you, brother_.

Din couldn’t hold in the startled laugh, a touch hysterical, mostly happy.

>> **clan of two  
**_likewise_

For the next few months, Din kept bounty hunting, kept visiting Grogu – to the chat group’s delight, they seemed to practically devour stories about his son’s latest antics – and kept talking to ‘bigblue’.

Then the news dropped that a new series of ‘ _Star-Crossed Lovers_ ’ would begin airing on the net in the near future and the chat practically did a u-turn until nearly all the content in the general channel, which had been full of anything and everything the week before, was once again in full holoshow dissection mode with predictions, observations, and fan-created art flying back and forth.

A few new faces had made themselves known over time, and Din had been caught more than once by the realisation that he was no longer the newbie on the server, but rather an established member.

He’d ‘known’ some of these people for over a year.

So, when Boba Fett suggested that they try and organise a watch party for the new episode with the server regulars, Din took a day off to make sure he would be free for it. He even managed to source some of the bubble tea Fett liked so much.

> **just a simple man  
**two minutes to watch party!

> **snips  
**ahhhhhhhh

> **theforge  
**was that you I just heard screaming from half-way across the galaxy **@snips**

> **snips  
**quite possibly.

> **cyberqueen  
**alright children, quiet down

And that was how Din found himself watching the series premier of a trashy holoshow with a group of net strangers - apart from Boba, of course - to the tune of their reactions in the chat to different parts of the episode which were amusing, thirsty – admittedly, that was mainly ‘snips’ - and, occasionally, thought-provoking.

Once the end credits had started playing, he wasn’t at all surprised when he got a direct message from ‘bigblue’.

>> **bigblue  
**damn  
that was good

>> **clan of two  
**with you on that

>> **bigblue  
**the pining?  
top notch.

>> **clan of two  
**cliché in all the best ways

>> **bigblue  
**kind of a shame that I can’t talk to you about it in person  
I think I’d like that

Din felt as though all of the air had been knocked from his chest at the admission. He didn’t want to misinterpret it, but at the same time, he couldn’t help the little spark of hope that maybe, just maybe, ‘bigblue’ liked him back.

>> **clan of two  
**I think I’d like that too

>> **bigblue  
**…  
just to be clear, are we both thinking ‘date’?  
because I _really_ like you.

Din’s pulse was hammering in his chest. This was happening. It was actually happening.

>> **clan of two  
**I like you too.  
though if we are going to do this  
I’d prefer it if you called me Din

>> **bigblue  
**huh, that’s weird. I knew a guy called that once  
small galaxy  
I’m Paz.

And the façade came crashing down.


	5. Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy christmas and a merry new year everyone! (Also, I think this is the fatest I have EVER written a fic sooo)  
> I hope this has brought you all some joy in this strange limbo time.

In the aftermath of the revelation, Din’s life was abruptly and irrevocably changed.

Instead of popping onto the server frequently to participate in discussions about the new episodes of ‘ _Star-Crossed Lovers_ ’, he found himself holding back. It wasn’t as though he was trying to avoid Paz – or maybe that was part of it – it was more that he no longer knew what to say. So, he kept quiet and loitered in the server, reading through the channels but rarely contributing, and he couldn’t help but notice that ‘bigblue’, Paz, was doing the same.

Naturally, it didn’t take the other people on the server long to work out that something was up. Not when two of the most active members of the server, who had seemed to get on relatively well, suddenly went silent.

It wasn’t until he got a direct message from ‘how corny’, formerly ‘star-crossed banter’, that he realised quite how much their change in dynamic had thrown the group at large, nor how certain people on the server apparently cared about him to the extent that they would arbitrarily choose his side without even knowing what the conflict was about.

>> **how corny  
**hey man  
you ok?  
everything alright between you and bigblue?  
because if they’ve hurt you, they’re going to have to deal with me (and snips)  
so just let me know if you need us to do some stabbing

>> **clan of two  
**I’m ok  
and thanks for the offer (I think)  
but this is something we need to work through in private

>> **how corny  
**ok  
well, if you need to talk or change your mind  
you know where I am

>> **clan of two  
**thanks

He hadn’t spoken to Paz after the night when they had realised exactly who it was that they had been talking to the entire time. The few final messages confirming each other’s identities had been the sum total of his interactions with Paz on the chat application since, and those messages had been emblazoned practically permanently in his mind.

>> **clan of two  
**… Vizsla?

>> **bigblue  
**Djarin?

>> **clan of two  
**Yeah.

>> **bigblue** _  
_ I -  
I don’t know what to say

>> **clan of two  
**yeah  
me neither  
I - need time of think

>> **bigblue  
**yeah

The problem was, he had no idea how to start talking to them again. The fact that he _wanted_ to talk to them was another problem in itself.

Considering how his last real-life meeting with Paz had gone he had hoped that they might have made some progress towards, if not being friends, then at least getting along – though he wouldn’t soon forget the attempt to take off his helmet in the forge. Even then, he knew that it would take a lot of work. He and Paz may have been raised together in the fighting corps, but he could barely remember a single interaction that hadn’t involved antagonism. Mainly on Paz’s part, admittedly, but he had to confess that he wasn’t exactly without blame.

And the truth was, he still _liked_ ‘bigblue’. ‘Bigblue’ had gotten him through some of the hardest periods of his life in the last year, had been his rock when things got difficult, had been the one person he could talk to and felt he could tell _everything_. That ‘bigblue’ had been Paz all along didn’t change those things.

It just made them a whole lot more complicated.

He even tried talking it through with Grogu when he next visited the school that the Jedi had set up. Though, what wisdom he expected to gain from a toddler, no matter how special, that had not already been revealed to him, he wasn’t sure.

There was no avoiding it. He was going to have to talk to Paz if he ever wanted to resolve the newfound tension between them.

Yet, in the end, it was Paz who summoned up the courage first.

>> **bigblue  
**look, I know I can never make up for how I’ve behaved towards you  
and if you never want to speak to me again, I understand  
I was an utter asshole

Yes, Din thought sharply, you were. But then, he already knew that because Paz had admitted as such to him when he was just ‘clan of two’. He remembered how they had talked about the reality of difficult childhoods - when he had been having a bit of a panic about whether he was raising Grogu properly - and Paz had opened up about what it was like to grow up under the weight of extreme family expectation.

Of course, he knew what they had meant now. The Vizsla name was one of the best known, and most prestigious, of all the Mandalorian houses and Paz was more of a direct descendent from certain key figures than many people thought. They’d been under a lot of pressure to be the best.

He was getting the sense, now, that the conversations between ‘clan of two’ and ‘bigblue’ were possibly the first time he and Paz had, however unintentionally, been completely honest with each other in their lives. Because if he felt that he could be his real self on the server? Then there was no reason not to assume that the same mentality might apply to others. Paz included.

He had to know.

>> **clan of two  
**was it true?

He didn’t need to elaborate. Paz’s reply was enough indication that they had understood.

>> **bigblue  
**every word.

>> **clan of two  
**Then I think it would be good for us to talk  
face to face that is  
JUST talk, mind

>> **bigblue  
**ok

It was awkward, of course it was, but on reflection, it was a good kind of awkward.

Paz hadn’t been wearing their full armour, which had briefly thrown Din. If he didn’t know them better, he would have thought that they were trying to appear smaller than their usually imposing physique to make him feel more comfortable, but he _did_ know better. Besides, they both knew that Din could take Paz in a fight if it came to it. At least the helmet hadn’t changed and the familiar design kept him grounded.

They must have made quite the sight, two Mandalorians sat in a secluded, but strategically chosen, corner of the marketplace with good sightlines and walls at their backs, no food or drink to be seen.

And they talked. Properly.

It quickly became clear that when they spoke openly, they were both a lot more like their online personas had been than the people they remembered each other as from the covert. It was also clear that the years apart, away from Nevarro and the relative stability and safety of the stronghold they had been a part of there, had changed them both, perhaps for the better.

Hours later, when the suns began to set, and Din felt he had got a good enough a read on Paz and their intentions as he needed, Din swallowed down his nerves like a true Mandalorian and said it.

“Look, Paz, I liked our talks and I don’t want to lose what we had on the server. If you are, I’m willing to give this a shot.”

If Paz was startled, they gave no outward indication.

“Are you sure?” they asked.

Slowly, broadcasting his movements, Din reached out and laid his hand on Paz’s. The blue visor dropped down to stare at where their gloves were in contact. Then, equally slowly, Paz turned their palm underneath his and interlinked their fingers.

What followed was a lot of discussion around boundaries and conditions and the limits of what they were comfortable with, and they continued to speak until the suns were fully set. It was surprisingly easy to talk now, Din found.

Neither of them let go of the other’s hand even once.

> **bigblue** changed their name to **blueonlyforyou  
*** **just a simple man** , **snips** , **theforge** and **fourteen others** reacted with {party face}*

> **clan of two** changed his name to **clan of three  
*** **just a simple man** , **snips** , **cyberqueen** , and **sixteen others** reacted with {party face}*

> **theforge  
**congrats you two!  
glad you worked it out

> **snips  
**guys guys guys I can’t _believe_ I’ve never realised this before

> **how corny  
**what?

> **frequentlyfrustrated  
**snipppssss

> **snips  
**now we actually have our own star-crossed lovers!

> **june’s wife  
**oh my word  
she’s right

> **theforge  
@cyberqueen **you owe me twenty credits

> **cyberqueen  
**dammit snips

> **blueonlyforyou  
**snips I will come for you {knife}

> **snips  
**you’d never catch me {winky face}

> **clan of three  
**_sigh  
_good to see nothing ever changes on here

> **just a simple man**  
**@blueonlyforyou @clanofthree**  
I have just one thing to say to you both  
about kriffing time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Annnnd the reveals  
> Some of you I know have worked many of these out but to clarify:
> 
> lone gunslinger | clan of two | clan of three - Din Djarin  
> bigblue | i'mblue | blueonlyforyou - Paz Vizsla  
> snips | hit me baby with those thighs - Ahsoka Tano  
> theforge - The Armourer  
> star-crossed banter | how corny - Cobb Vanth  
> frequentlyfrustrated - Peli Motto  
> cyberqueen - Fennec Shand (incidentally, also a mod)  
> june's wife - Koska Reeves
> 
> and, of course  
> just a simple man - Boba Fett


End file.
